First Fire
by maripaz6
Summary: When Azula produces her first flames, she is astonished by her family's reaction. ONESHOT.


Azula was angry.

No. She was furious.

Zuko had been going to preschool as long as she could remember, but when _she_ grabbed a knapsack — just like Zuzu's, only a little smaller — and hoisted it over her shoulder and began to walk out the door, her mother had dragged her back. Just because Zuko was two years older, he got to go to preschool and have fun. And because she was younger, she had to stay home, alone in the Palace, ignored by her parents and scorned by the servants.

It wasn't fair.

When she told her mother that, though, her mother had only laughed and said, one day, Azula, when you're older.

"But I want to do go now!" she'd protested, her hands balled at her sides, long nails biting unforgivingly into tender flesh.

Ursa had chuckled and called Ozai over, her eyes dancing with a barely contained mirth to share with her husband.

Her father, however, had only looked down at Azula and stated that such behaviour was unfit for a princess, especially a princess of the Fire Nation. Not that it mattered to Azula what he thought.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, and neither of them cared.

"Argh!" she shrieked, anger and frustration burning within her and, when she threw her hands up, her emotions came pouring out.

Immediately her father looked at her far more keenly, and Azula felt a flash of satisfaction. Finally, someone was paying attention to her; someone would understand her; someone would let her go to preschool like her brother. She filed away the situation for future reference — throwing tantrums was useful.

But then he turned away and called a servant over, ordering him to tell his father, Fire Lord Azulon, that he sought an audience with him. Irritation flashed through her and she threw an arm at her father who dared turn away from her when she was in the middle of a tantrum. As if politics was more important than his own daughter.

Her father split the flames coming at him without a second thought. He turned to Azula, obviously pleased, and said dispassionately, "The power of Firebending comes from the breath. If you are going to attack someone, be sure to channel the breath through your body."

But Azula was in no state to appreciate his advice. She stood frozen, shocked that she had managed to produce flame. Zuko hadn't been able to do this at her age. He'd only produced fire last month. A wicked smile split her face — now her parents would _have_ to let her go to preschool.

But once again her hopes were dashed when Ozai called her over and insisted she get changed; they were having an audience with Fire Lord Azulon in ten minutes.

Her mother came up to her, from where she had been watching the entire episode. "Best clothes, Azula," she said.

And within seven minutes Azula was freshly washed and wearing her nicest clothes, waiting outside of the throne room. But when neither of her parents appeared, she shrugged her shoulders and walked in alone. It wasn't like Grandaddy Azulon was very scary — he always snuck her fire flakes on festival days. And one never kept the Fire Lord waiting.

She approached the flickering wall of flames, behind which sat her grandfather in an uncomfortable obsidian throne. She'd sat on it once, too, playing hide-and-go-seek with Zuko before he'd left for better things, like preschool. Kneeling at the foot of the flames, Azula waited for her grandfather to begin.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity for the four year old, he cleared his throat and said, "Azula, I believe your family sought an audience with me."

Azula stayed silent. Whenever she came into the throne room, her father had drilled into her that she wasn't to speak unless asked to. And Azulon hadn't asked anything of her, just stated facts. She kept her face neutral, holding her kneeling position.

However, her grandfather repeated, a little more sharply, "Azula, your family sought an audience with me." He paused and, upon seeing her blank, confused face, he continued, "Since they have not come, it is now your duty to converse with me."

Azula blinked. She sat up and, breaking her father's rule, she asked, "Grandaddy, what does 'converse' mean?"

"It means 'talk', Azula," Fire Lord Azulon replied, massaging his forehead. "Goodness, child, you need to get to school."

Azula nodded enthusiastically, excited that finally someone agreed with her. "I think I need to go to preschool, too," she confided. "But mother and father kept saying no." She paused, then continued, "I got really angry at them, and I think I bent fire! If I'm old enough to bend, granddaddy, doesn't that mean I'm old enough to go to school? Zuko wasn't even able to bend when he started going." She stuck her lower lip out and looked up at him with her puppy-dog eyes. Tantrums wouldn't work on her grandfather — he was much too strict to even allow such behaviour — but being a sweet granddaughter might.

"I don't know, Azula….." he trailed off. "I still haven't seen you bend."

"Really?" Azula pouted.

"Really." Azulon leant forward in his throne. This would be fascinating. Ozai had always maintained that he'd named his daughter after her grandfather so that she may be imbued with the same strength, the same grace, and the same intelligence; however, Azulon suspected it was a sad attempt to flatter him into giving his second son the throne. Ozai's greed was apparent in his every move and only disgusted Azulon. But if the girl who shared his name could already create flames at the tender age of four, she was a prodigy, possibly worthy of such a prestigious name. "Prove it to me," Azulon said, steepling his fingers together beneath his chin.

Azula heard the challenge in his voice. Determination flowed through her: she was going to school, and she was going to be just as good as Zuko. Standing up, shutting her eyes tight, she clenched her fists and thought of the injustice of the world. Irritation, frustration, and anger were released in a single haphazard motion. When she reopened her eyes, the nearby pillar, once covered in sinuous dragons, was smoking slightly, and the dragons were melting into one another.

Engrossed in her work, she spun, startled, when Azulon began clapping dryly, his face devoid of emotion. "Impressive," he said. "But it is traditional to kneel after bending in the Fire Lord's presence."

Azula hastily got onto her knees. Then, after the minimum time necessary, she bounced up and said, "Can I go to school now?"

"That, " Azulon replied, "is for your parents to decide." He gestured and from behind the curtains at the back of the room emerged Ozai and Ursa. The two drew abreast to their daughter pulled her away from the Fire Lord.

"It's time to go," Ursa whispered into Azula's ear. "And be quiet and reserved; your father is in an…. unpredictable mood.

But Azula only shouted, "Bye, granddaddy!" as she left. When they'd exited the room, she said excitedly to her parents, "did you see me bending? And why were you hiding behind the curtain? That was rather silly. It was a family audience."

However, her father only regarded her seriously before saying, "We have our reasons, Azula. And yes, we did see your bending."

Her mother chimed in. "It was very impressive, dearest."

But Azula already knew that her mother was impressed. She wanted her father's approval too, though, so she tugged on his robes. "Did you like it?"

Her hopes were dashed when he replied, "it was barely acceptable."

"Oh." There was a pause, and then she asked, "Can I go to school, though? I'm just as good as Zuko."

Her father replied, stroking her cheek in an oddly possessive gesture, "You're better than Zuko." She leant into his touch, enjoying it. Her father rarely had time for her. "And because you're better than him, I'll be training you personally here in the Royal Palace."

Azula nodded, glad to spend time with him. Then she realized something. "I won't be going to school yet, will I." she stated. It was supposed to be a question, but even at the age four Azula knew there was no question about it. Her father's word was law.

"Yes," her Father said. 'Now, go run off to Zuko and tell him the good news. I expect to see you tomorrow sunrise in the courtyard."

Dejected but determined not to show it, Azula did so. She caught sight of him, scowling at Mother as she said something at him. Completely oblivious, she ran in and shouted, "Zuko, guess what?" Maybe she could get some pleasure from beating him and crushing him under her heel, even if she still couldn't go to school. "I can firebend!"

Zuko froze stock still. "What?" he gaped. "But I couldn't do that till a year ago!"

Azula smiled with vicious pleasure. "I know," she replied. It took the sting of not going to school out of her wounds. "I'm even getting private lessons with Dad.." she lilted. Zuko looked at her, some unidentifiable emotion burning in his eyes. Was it — jealousy? He was jealous of her? "Just think about me when you're in school; your little sister, learning firebending forms with her father…." she rubbed it in a little more. Then she turned and skipped away, the ache in her chest lessening.

Zuko wanted to firebend with father and she wanted to go to school. She couldn't win, but she could beat Zuzu by not being upset. Jealousy still burned within her, ready to fuel her fire; however, Azula already knew she would enjoy taunting Zuko about training with Father much, much more than she would ever have enjoyed going to school.

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 **Toza's Gym, Weights, word count: 1652**


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